


take care of you for me

by gallifreytrash



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Crowley, M/M, Pining, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreytrash/pseuds/gallifreytrash
Summary: "Most days and most nights, Crowley was full of confidence and swagger. That was most days, but not everyone can be perfect all the time, can they? That’s what Crowley told himself on the days he wasn’t so perfect."Aziraphale hasn't seen Crowley in a while, but when he comes to his apartment he finds out the demon hasn't been doing so well.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 83





	take care of you for me

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this fic is unbeta'd so any and all mistakes are all on me.

Most days and most nights, Crowley was full of confidence and swagger. That was most days, but not everyone can be perfect all the time, can they? That’s what Crowley told himself on the days he wasn’t so perfect. Until recently, when Crowley had moments of self-consciousness, or if he was so anxious he couldn’t leave the house, or if he felt like the world was pointless and he might as well sleep until the universe fizzled out, it was only HIS problem to deal with. He’d sit in his bedroom and stare at a wall and wallow in self-pity until he magically felt better and ready to face the Satan-forsaken world again, or maybe he would sleep for a few years until he was ready to wake up again. 

Crowley knew WHY he sometimes felt like he might as well fade away, after all, he  _ had _ been dealing with the world’s most chronic case of pining for approximately 6,000 years (with no end in sight) combined with a good heaped helping of guilt and shame from falling. He’d learned to shove these feelings down as far as he could until they boiled over once or twice a year and left him unable to function for a little while. He’d learned to fear weaknesses like this. Demons weren’t supposed to be crippled by their own emotions, they were supposed to use emotions against others. He was an awful demon, however, and he knew it, and he also knew that if he  _ did _ stay out of commission for too long he might get into trouble with Head Office, and then he’d land himself in hot water, or should he say, holy water. It was this fear, too, that crippled Crowley, an embarrassing fact he had always thought he wouldn’t be likely to share with anyone. However, times can change, because during one of these episodes in which Crowley felt hopeless and full of despair, his angel came to his rescue.

\--

Aziraphale hadn’t seen Crowley in a long while, at least a long while in post-Armageddon terms. Before the world had almost ended the two entities were lucky to see each other once every hundred years or so, but since the incident with the Antichrist, they saw each other far more regularly, at least once a week. However, the angel hadn’t seen Crowley for almost a month, so he had called his phone and mobile multiple times, and after hearing nothing at all from the usually sociable demon, Aziraphale had become very worried. The thought did occur to him that maybe he had gone to sleep for a while, but he hadn’t done that for quite some time, and usually when he  _ did _ he would tell Aziraphale first, so sleeping was off the list. The angel had resolved that day to make his way out to Crowley’s apartment, which he so rarely saw, just to make sure he was alright. If he  _ was _ alright, then he’d apologise for his impatience and pop home, which he was certain was the most likely turn of events (which is what he had been telling himself), and if something was wrong, well he wasn’t too sure what he would do then…

With the sun beginning to set, the angel put on his coat and left the shop. He got on a bus, trying desperately to remember the number of stops it took before he needed to get off as scenarios on what might be wrong with the demon raced around his mind: what if he’d been taken away by Beelzebub? Or Ligur? Or what if he’d been discorporated by accident? Or, the worst possibility, what if he just had grown tired of seeing Aziraphale and had decided he wasn’t going to bother contacting him any longer? Aziraphale visibly shook his head to dislodge such negativity,

‘ _ No _ ,’ he thought, ‘ _ He’ll be alright, he probably just doesn’t pay as much attention to how often we see each other as I do. He’ll be on that silly throne watching something on his television and I’ll go in there and feel quite ridiculous, then I’ll go home, and he’ll come over later tonight and we’ll have dinner. _ ’

Suddenly his stop was upon him. He stepped off the bus and walked over to the building that housed Crowley’s flat. He pressed the call button to alert the demon to let him into the building. No response. He pressed it again. No response. Aziraphale began to sweat, this was very unlike Crowley. The Bentley was parked just outside, so he hadn’t gone anywhere, he had to be inside, but if he wasn’t answering calls or the buzzer to let the angel in, something was wrong. 

“Right,” Aziraphale muttered with as much resolve he could muster, “the hard way it is…” He snapped his fingers and the locked front door gave way, allowing him entry into the foyer. He called the lift and soon found himself standing outside Crowley’s door.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked as he rapped lightly on the wood, “Are you alright my dear? Are you home?”

After receiving no response once again he quickly warned the demon he was coming in and miracled the door open.

\--

The truth was that Crowley  _ had _ been receiving Aziraphale’s calls, he just didn’t have the strength to pick up. He lay on his bed and heard the ringing until it ceased every day for about a week before it seemed the angel had given up. Then, when the angel had buzzed his apartment from outside just now, he’d  _ wanted _ to go and let him in, but then he knew that there was no way the angel could see him in his current state and thought better of it. Then, of course, when Aziraphale knocked at his front door he  _ still  _ couldn’t get up. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair, cursing himself for his cowardice as he heard the door open.

\--

Aziraphale stepped gently into the apartment and shut the door behind him.

“Crowley?” he called out, “Please my dear, I know you’re home, I’m worried about you...”

He heard faint sounds of life coming from the demon’s bedroom and began to slowly walk over there. He passed the plants on his way and his heart sank, they were looking awful, drooping and covered in brown spots. He couldn’t imagine Crowley would tolerate them looking like this, which meant something was  _ really _ wrong. Once he reached the bedroom he opened the door slowly, and he saw the demon sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair was no longer spiked to perfection as usual, rather it had fallen down over his face haphazardly. He wasn’t in his usual tight pants and shirt, but in black sweatpants and a grey hoodie instead. He was barefoot and wasn’t wearing his glasses, even though usually whenever Aziraphale was around he would immediately reach for them.

“Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale said in the gentlest voice he could manage, “what’s wrong? Are you quite alright?”

Crowley started to tremble. His hands didn’t leave his face. Aziraphale hurriedly took off his coat and sat next to him on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around the frail figure as he shook.

“Crowley, it’s alright, I’m here, it’s alright.” He tried, “Shhh, don’t cry my dear, it’s alright.”

One of his hands moved up to Crowley’s head, he held it closer to his chest and cradled it as he gently ran his fingers through the demon’s limp hair. He got the sense that maybe he was dressed incorrectly for comforting, and snapped his fingers to reciprocate the clothing Crowley had on, replacing his usual outfit with tartan pyjama pants and a beige jumper, forgoing his shoes. Crowley continued to tremble, but now he started to sob. Aziraphale dared not move, save to pull Crowley even tighter into him.

“I’m sorry…” Crowley mumbled almost too quietly to hear.

“Crowley, you have no need to apologise,” Aziraphale replied, squeezing the demon gently, “although, I feel I should ask you before I overstep a boundary,” he stammered, “do you want me to stay with you?”

Crowley didn’t respond, but he grabbed the angel’s jumper and balled it up in his fist.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Aziraphale said softly, “Come here then.” He said, holding him as he slid further onto the bed. He crossed his legs and held the still weeping demon in his lap with his head buried in his chest (despite the fact that Crowley was quite a bit taller than him, but he seemed to be managing the position regardless). Aziraphale rested his chin on top of Crowley’s head, with one arm wrapped firmly around the demon and the other still in his hair, softly running his fingers through it.

Seeing Crowley like this gave Aziraphale no pleasure whatsoever, and what hurt more was that Crowley hadn’t  _ told _ him that he wasn’t feeling alright. The angel knew he couldn’t hold it against him, but seeing Crowley so truly despondent made him want to cry as well.

“Crowley my dear, I’m not quite sure if you’re ready to hear this now,” He began, “but maybe you should know that, well, I have rather strong feelings about you.” His voice was wavering slightly as emotion worked to tighten his chest, but he continued, “In fact, my dear, I think that- well, that I might love you, and I want you to know that I’ll be here with you until you’re ready to talk to me, or even if you  _ don’t _ want to talk to me, I’m going to stay here with you.” He choked, fighting back his own tears, “I was so worried you were dead.” He squeezed Crowley and bent to kiss the top of his head.

“I’m sorry…” The demon gasped between sobs, “I’m so sorry.”

Aziraphale shushed Crowley, reminded him that it was alright, and just held him. He held him so close that he lost track of the point where his own body ended and the demon’s began. He continued to sob, but he held onto the angel for dear life, with his fist still tightly balled in Aziraphale’s jumper and the other wrapped around the angel’s waist, and when he started to shiver slightly, Aziraphale miracled a blanket over his lap, and over Crowley, so he’d stay warm comfortable.

\-- 

Crowley knew deep down that maybe he should stop crying, but he couldn’t. The rhythm of the angel’s hands in his hair, the warmth of his arms and chest, and of course the warmth and softness of the blanket he’d draped over the two of them, made his heart hurt from the pain he knew Aziraphale must feel at seeing him like this. All he could really do was hold on  _ tight _ to the angel and maybe, when he could control himself, he could tell him what was wrong. He could tell him that he’s never told anyone why he’s like this, that he couldn’t. He could tell the angel that he loved him too, that he always had, and that he was always so scared to tell him. He’d tell him all the things he’d kept secret, and then he’d make it up to the angel by not leaving his side for at least a week, and then he’d feel better. For now though, he couldn’t seem to get his useless body to do anything but weep.

\--

It was about an hour before Crowley started to settle down. Aziraphale turned his head down to press his face into the demon‘s hair. He smelled just like he usually did, like smoke and linen. He took in that smell and shut his eyes tightly against the onslaught of emotion that threatened to swallow him.

“I love you, Crowley.” He whispered.

“I love you too.” Crowley replied gently and quietly into the angel’s chest, his voice still thick with tears.

Crowley sniffed and slowly began to stop crying after that, though he remained buried in Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale ran a hand over the demon’s back to try and coax him to look up at him.

“Crowley, you must understand something very important: I would do  _ anything _ for you. If you asked me to, I’d discorporate myself time and time again, I’d fall from Heaven, for God’s sake, I’d walk right into Hellfire. I want you to know that if anything is ever wrong, well, I want to be there for you, my dear. I want to make sure you’re alright, make sure you’re taken care of properly”

Now Crowley did shift, he lifted himself slightly out of the angel’s lap to sit cross-legged beside him. He kept his eyes downcast, clearly he was still slightly embarrassed. Aziraphale reached out to him and took his hands in his. The demon looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the crying, and he was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes yet, to Aziraphale, he still looked beautiful. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down and he cleared his throat,

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick up your calls, or let you into the building, or the apartment.” Crowley said tentatively, his voice hoarse, “I’m glad you came, I really am.”

“It’s quite alright, my dear, frankly I’m just glad you’re alright, at least in the physical sense. Do you need me to get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“I could do with some water,” Crowley requested, “thank you, angel.”

Aziraphale nodded and got up, leaving the demon on the bed, who consequently rubbed his face and eyes and got up to put his glasses on.

“Please don’t,” Aziraphale asked, “you don’t have to, I like your eyes.”

Crowley looked at him with a shocked look on his face, “Yeah, alright, okay then.”

Aziraphale left the bedroom and headed to Crowley’s kitchen. He went into the cabinets and found a glass, then got himself a mug. He may have only been inside Crowley’s apartment a few times, but he knew it well. He took time as he prepared Crowley’s glass of water and a cup of tea for himself, to process what had just happened. Crowley had been so vulnerable and, quite frankly, he was  _ still _ vulnerable. He’d never been like this in front of the angel before, save for maybe at the pub after he’d been discorporated, but that wasn’t even close to how he was now. He didn’t mind, of course, he wanted to help him, like he’d said, but it was so odd for the demon to trust him enough to even let him  _ stay _ when he was in a mood like that, let alone get close enough to hold him like he had been. He was also rather shocked by the fact that he had told Crowley he loved him. Just like that. Twice. Not only that, but Crowley had said it too. He stood at the kettle and waited for it to boil, utterly lost in thought.

\--

Crowley sat on the bed with his glasses in his hand. He wasn’t going to put them on, but it did feel strange to have made himself so prone to the angel all of a sudden. He’d gone from his usual tight-clothed, glasses-wearing, confident demon to an emotional, crying mess. He was grateful to Aziraphale for staying though, and at least now he knew he could love Aziraphale and know he felt the same, a great weight off his shoulders. He was exhausted though, he felt drained, but he knew he would have to tell the angel what was wrong before the night was up. 

He stood up, his legs slightly shaky from lack of use over the last few days, and put his glasses back on top of his dresser. He padded out of the bedroom and over the kitchen counter where Aziraphale was waiting for the kettle to boil. Wordlessly, he lifted himself onto the vast counter and sat on top of it, running his hands over his upper arms to ward off the chill of his apartment.

“Alright angel?”

Aziraphale shook himself back to reality, he’d been staring into space, “Yes, yes, quite alright, lost in thought I should think.”

“I _ will  _ tell you what’s wrong with me, you know, just let me get back to normal a bit...” Crowley said earnestly.

“Of course Crowley, but you know, you don’t have to do it tonight.”

“No, I do. I’ve waited too long to tell you, or anyone for that matter.” He said calmly.

Crowley took the glass of water from the counter and started to sip it as the angel began brewing his tea.

“Are you hungry?” Crowley asked

“Er- well, yes, but it’s really not about me right now, is it?” 

Crowley looked the angel in the eyes as he snapped his fingers and a few biscuits materialised into the angel’s lap. Aziraphale smiled and chuckled slightly as he gratefully took them and drank his tea. They sat side by side on the counter in absolute silence as Crowley slowly began to put himself back together as best he could. He did feel better, but he couldn’t be at one hundred percent just yet, the urge to lock himself in the bedroom and sleep forever was still there, just less persistent. He ignored that particular urge for now, and downed the rest of his water, then placed the empty glass in the sink as he hopped off the counter. Aziraphale was still finishing his tea, so Crowley waited patiently until he had done so.

“Right, where do you want to go talk?” He offered. His voice was still quiet and tentative, but a bit of his usual tone was beginning to shine through.

“Wherever you’ll be most comfortable.”   
  


“Well, it is getting late now,” Crowley ventured as he looked out of one of his many windows, “Maybe we go back to the bedroom? I’m going to need to sleep after all this, I’m already exhausted.”

“Should I go back to the shop, or do you want me to stay the night?”

“Yes, please don’t go back to the shop. If that’s alright with you of course. You don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to, I know you don’t usually. I’ll probably have a few book-”

“I’ll sleep, I  _ can  _ sleep you know. If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, I’ll sleep.”

“Right, al-alright then.”

Aziraphale put his mug in the sink and took Crowley’s hand on the way back to the bedroom.

“It’s a bit awkward, isn’t it?” the angel offered.

“Would you prefer somewhere else?” Crowley asked nervously, his eyes widening.   
  


“No, my dear, it’s perfectly alright, it’s just that we’ve gone from a sort of distanced friendship to this closeness so quickly, I almost can’t believe it.”

“In a good way?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale smiled and squeezed the demon’s hand, “in a good way.”

Aziraphale moved over to one side of the bed and slid under the duvet. He lay on his side and motioned for Crowley to do the same. Crowley did so, he crawled under the blankets and lay on his side, facing the angel.

“Okay, before I start, I need you to promise that you won’t think the less of me after I’ve finished.”   
  
“You really must stop this underestimation of just how much I love you, my dear. Far too much to judge you on the things that make you  _ upset _ …”

“Right, sorry, not that used to people not judging me… Well then, I do get like this sometimes, maybe a few times a year? Not as often as humans might, but it happens. You just haven’t seen it because we didn’t see each other much until recently. I just, um, start to feel like there’s no point in doing anything, like the world’s pointless, like if I went to sleep until the universe collapsed there wouldn’t be anything to miss, or that if I stayed locked up in this room that it wouldn’t matter. It usually lasts a few days, and then I come back to myself a bit and I’m fine, but I can’t help it, maybe everything just catches up to me every once in a while: being a demon and all the lovely things that come with it that I never asked for; my feelings for  _ you _ that I’ve tried to keep quiet for 6,000 years because I was  _ certain _ , until now, that they were unrequited; being constantly worried that I’d be dragged down to Hell and sentenced to Holy water for spending time with you; or the other way around, that you’d get in trouble for affiliating yourself with me and fall, or worse, forced to walk into Hellfire. I think that sometimes being me is too hard, and my body can’t take it anymore, so I just have to sit and feel like shit for a while until everything’s shoved neatly back down where it belongs.” 

He stopped for a second. Aziraphale’s eyes hadn’t left his and he listened attentively. Crowley’s heart swelled in his chest as he continued,

“I never thought I’d tell anyone that sometimes it all gets to be too much. I sort of just tell myself the same thing: that I’m a demon, and demon’s don’t wallow in self-pity, we’re supposed to do it to others, but I never wanted to  _ be _ a demon, let alone a demon who’s good at their job. I’m telling  _ you _ , though, because I love you, I always have, and maybe if I can have you in my life, if you’ll let me stay by your side every once in a while, then I won’t have to feel like shit anymore. If we’re going to spend more time together, and I really do want to, you have to know everything about me,” Crowley snapped his fingers, “which is why I’m giving you these.”

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and pressed into it two small keys linked together by a piece of red rope.

“It’s a key into the building, and into my flat, so if I don’t pick up your calls, or let you in, you can do it yourself.”

“Thank you, Crowley.” Aziraphale said, his eyes swimming with emotion just as Crowley’s had been, “It would matter a great deal to  _ me  _ if you locked yourself in here and never came out. After all, I think I might need you as much as you need me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I love you sooner, maybe it would have saved us both a great deal of trouble.” He continued, “You know you’re always welcome at the shop to stay as long as you like. Can I ask one thing of you, though: will you promise me that you won’t pretend like this night never happened when you start to feel better? Don’t wake up tomorrow and get back into your normal clothes and start wearing your glasses around me all the time again, don’t act like you’re fine all the time even if you’re not, please don’t distance yourself from me anymore, I’m not sure if I could take it after tonight.”

“I promise,” Crowley said in the most genuine tone he was capable of, and took Aziraphale’s hand under the covers, “you’re right, we can’t keep being friends at a distance. No more glasses. No more secrets.”

“No more secrets.” Aziraphale agreed, “Come here then.” He beckoned for the demon to move closer, and as he did so, before Crowley could turn onto his other side like Aziraphale intended, the angel leaned his face closer to the demon’s, “Thank you for telling me all this.”

“Thank you for being here.” Crowley responded.

Crowley leaned even closer ever so slowly, until the angel took the hint and kissed him, his hands snaking gently into his hair as he held the demon close to him.

When they broke away, they both smiled and Crowley turned over. Aziraphale took him in and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, his face tucked into the demon’s back.

“Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight angel.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Crowley replied. 

He was warm to the core, and the last remnants of hopelessness in him had dissipated, replaced by the softness of this new intimacy he could have with Aziraphale. With the angel’s arms wrapped around him as he fell asleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky he was.

About how perfect it all was.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was alright, thanks for reading !


End file.
